The Need of Belonging
by Demonic Child
Summary: Hermione has been having a lot of troubles with people the past year. After Ron broke up with her during Christmas Dance, she finds the comfort in the one guy who solemnly cares. Hr/D


**The Need of Belonging**  
_by Demonic Child_

This is a  Hermione/Draco fic.  
  
**Chapter 1: The Pain Within Me**   
It was absolutely unbearable. Everyday she woke up, hoping today would be better than yesterday. But it never was. She wondered when was the  first time she actually smiled… the first time she laughed at something that was funny. Ages ago, that's when. She wondered if anyone really cared for her.  
  
Ron did. _Did_. He had a secret crush on her since Fourth Year, but after dating in Sixth Year, he broke it off with her during Christmas Dance. Of course, she was heartbroken. She hadn't had feelings for Ron until Fifth Year. That's when it really struck her. But now, Ron doesn't like her anymore.  
  
Harry tried to be nice to Hermione. She knew he did, but sometimes he couldn't hold in his anger. So caught up with dealing with Lord Voldemort, Harry feels like all the stress had been placed on him. So whenever he got angry, he said what was on his mind. Many times in Fifth Year, so many times, Hermione either cried or was on the verge of crying whenever Harry yelled. But now, she could care less for him.  
  
Most of the other Gryffindors didn't like her. For the fact that she was a know-it-all and bossy, who would like her? Sure, she gave them points everyday, but no one really wants to be around someone who cares more for her studies than people.  
  
That's another thing that stressed Hermione. Judgments. People judge her before they even know her! Had they ever once _tried_ to talk to her? Had they ever spared any time just to get to know a little bit about her? NO. All they knew was she was Harry and Ron's best friend and smart. Basically, they didn't know shit about her.  
  
So this is where it all leads up. They caused all the pain inside her. Why couldn't she just be like any other average student? Why must she be too smart for her own good? Why must she be a muggle witch? Why did she have to even be alive?  
  
The question that Hermione asked herself many times… Why was she even born? Was there a purpose? If so, what? So many questions she never got an answer too.   
  
~*~  
  
Here she was, a sixteen year old girl with no life, standing outside in the dark, cold weather. It was the day of the Christmas Dance. Ron just broke up with her for another girl that he had his sights set on. It was a pity that she was feeling miserable on such a beautiful night. The stars were twinkling brightly, and the moon shone to its fullest. The snow on the ground luminated from the bright stars, it was a pretty sight. Too bad she was feeling her worst that day.  
  
She questioned herself, why she even came outside. It was much warmer inside. All she was wearing was her silk gown for the dance, she left her robes in the common room. Instead of going back up to the common room, she stayed outside. There was too much of a happy atmosphere inside. The dance wasn't even over yet, but it probably would end soon, as it was nearing midnight,  
  
Slowly, she walked towards the frozen lake, and sat down on the ice cold bench before it. Tears came striding down her face. _No, no,don't cry.Pull yourself together_, she thought. But it was no use. No one was outside, even if they were, why would they care for her?  
  
She buried her face into her hands, silently sobbing. It was so cold outside, the world was so cold, she could freeze to death. That didn't sound like such a bad idea. Maybe, once she dies, everything will be at peace again, and she wouldn't have to mourn anymore.  
  
Something warm had covered her back, then flapped onto her arms. _Maybe Ron came back to comfort me…  
  
_Wiping her face dry of tears, she looked up to see who was willing to comfort her.  
  
"M-Malfoy?" she said quietly. He was standing in front of her, looking down at her with a soft expression. "What are you doing here? You should be inside enjoying the Ball." Hermione didn't know why she wasn't being rude to Draco. Sure, she disliked him, but she didn't hate him.   
  
"It didn't feel right in there, with so much happiness, it's all rather disturbing," he scowled remembering all the Slytherin girls swooning over him, begging him to dance. Looking down at Hermione, he saw her looking up at him with those big sorrowful eyes. "Why are you out here? It's freezing and you didn't bring any robes."  
  
"Er," she looked down at her glass dress shoes. When Draco talked, he looked straight into her eyes. Most people would look at other things when asking her something, but Draco kept a straight face towards her. He had hard gray eyes, it was simply beautiful. He was the only person she knew that had gray eyes. He was also the only person she knew that was extraordinarily handsome. Sure she had seen many good-looking eyes, but he was different.  
  
In his silk white shirt that wasn't tucked in, with the two top buttons undone, showing some of his skin, and black slacks, he looked so...so _handsome_. Plus, his hair was just an inch or two below his chin, slightly touching his broad shoulders. The moon above the lake made him glow.  
  
"Hermione?" he took a seat next to her. The curiousity in his voice surprised Hermione. Does he care for her? If he does, what would she tell him? That Ron broke up with her? That everybodywas so cruel to her?  
  
"The world is so cruel and cold..." she said quietly in her sorrowful voice. Looking away from him, another tear strolled down her face. She quickly wiped it off, but she had the oddest feeling that he was watching her. She looked over at him, to see if he had anything to say. As she expected, he was still looking at her. With his arms crossed, elbows on knees, and slouched back, he nodded to her.  
  
"This world is cold, but it will get better. I don't know what happened to make you feel this way, but you have to know that even through all these problems, some people care for you. Atleast," he looked towards the frozen lake, rubbing his hands up and down his arms to keep warm, "that's what I say to myself." As he breathed, smoke came from his mouth. It was freezing cold and here he is, without his robe because he let her use it.  
  
"Oh..." she quickly took off the right side of the robe and patted her hand next to her, "Here." Draco looked at her hand and turned back to the lake, shaking his head.  
  
"I'm fine," he said, with a slight shiver.  
  
"Draco, I don't want you to freeze to death, come on... there is room for one more in this robe." Draco looked into her eyes before scooting closer to her and closing the other side of the robe around him.  
  
At first, his body was cold against her skin, but almost immediately it grew warm. Why he was being nice to her? She didn't know. But right now, she knew that _he_ cared for her. Or atleast she thought.  
  
"Why aren't you with Weasel?" asked Draco out of nowhere. They were just simply gazing at the night sky.  
  
"He...we aren't seeing each other anymore. It wasn't working out," her chest gave an odd flop and the back of her throat felt like there was a rock stuck in it. She was about to cry again, she could feel the tear rising in her eye.  
  
But why was she crying over _him_? Ron, of all people. Maybe she wasn't crying over him. Maybe she was going to cry for the fact that she felt out of place. Draco's arm went around Hermione's waist and pulled her closer, and she leaned her head on his shoulder.  
  
"I don't understand," she said in a choked sob, "Is there something wrong with me?" she hiccuped, "Am I not pretty enough? Harry's always yelling and no one wants to talk to me...it's so hard to try to fit in somewhere if no one wants to talk to you. I am a nice person, but everyone judges me and thinks I'm snobby..and," she hiccuped again, "that I'm a know-it-all, a mudblood, I'm not..." By now she was crying on his shoulder, though he didn't seem to mind.  
  
It was comforting to know that someone was with her, running there hands up and down her arm and back just to make her feel better. It was almost as if Draco knew everything she was going through. But Draco has the most perfect life. He was rich and very popular. Everyone always listens to him.  
  
"Sometimes," he began, resting his cheek on her head as he ran his hand down her arm and back to comfort her, "You'll feel alone...as if no one seems to care. You shouldn't degrade yourself, Hermione. People always judge, but you shouldn't be so worried about what they think of you. You know you are a good person. You are the only one I know that helped Potter during his adventures, or told Longbottom directions to potions even though you knew you could get in trouble, and even," he chuckled, "stuck with your idea to free house elves when no one else would."  
  
Hermione gave a smile small through her tears and pulled the robe closer around her.  
  
"Thanks," was all that could come out of her. The music from the Great Hall stopped and you could hear many people chatting or walking. Draco turned his head and stared at the big castle.  
  
"The Ball is over," he stated, looking down at her. Hermione nodded but didn't want to leave.  
  
"I don't want to go back inside yet," she looked up at him. His face was only a few inches away. Those silver pools bore into her chocolate brown eyes. The eyes showed no emotion, but Hermione couldn't get the feeling there was something in there.  
  
Draco turned so that her chest was against him. He took his other hand and entwined his fingers with hers. Hermione couldn't think straight. His touch was mesmerizing. Her heart beat faster than ever, louder if it could. The heat radiating off of his body was shocking. She wanted to feel against him more...  
  
It was hard to explain what happened next. Draco's head kept leaning forward and his eyes slowly closed. Hermione leaned upward a little and as well closed her eyes slowly, and Draco's lips closed onto hers.   
  
The kiss was absolutely marvolous. Draco was holding her waist, pushing her even closer, so that one of her legs were over his. Hermione's hands were running through his hair. Taking his hands to her head, he pressed harder on her mouth. Hermione made a moan of mixed pleasure/pain, she had never been kissed so immensly before. Draco softened his kiss a bit, releasing her head and holding the small of her back.  
  
Draco couldn't get enough of her. Deepening the kiss, he skillfully traced her lips with his tongue, and plunged his tongue inside. Roaming his tongue around her mouth, he urged her tongue to dance with his. Reluctantly, she moved her tongue into his mouth, and together their tongues fought for the dominant position.  
  
After a few long moments the kiss slowed down a bit, and finally they broke it off. Hermione's eyes were still closed and she rested her head on his shoulder again, breathing heavy.  
  
Draco's eyes opened however, and he placed his cheek onto her head once more. He breathed in heavily the scent of her hair, it was herbally. Together they wished they could stay like this forever, but it was getting late.  
  
He closed his eyes tightly once more then said,  
  
"We should be heading back, it's late." He rose is head and Hermione nodded. Was she falling in love with him? She didn't know. But she was happy now. That's what mattered.  
  
**End of Chapter One**  
  
A/N: My first attempt at writing a fic...sorry if it sucked for you. I'm just beginning. Please review, I need some aspects of how this story is heading so far. I'll try to update soon. Sorry if I misspelled or did some grammar errors, I re-read through it so I must've missed something.  
  
_Songs Listening While Writing:_  
  
1) Figure .09, Linkin Park   
2) Somewhere I Belong, Linkin Park  
3) Nobody's Listening, Linkin Park  
  
So I'm addicted to Linkin Park, sue me.


End file.
